Internal Struggle
by videogamelover221
Summary: Throughout history, each country has witnessed some sort of inner conflict. It could be from the weather, famines, or economic troubles. I'm going to try to stay away from wars, but I'll write war stories if I must. Most current chapter: Sealand and the Fire
1. America and the Great Depression

_During the Great Depression, when people laughed their worries disappeared..._

_-Jerry Stiller_

__Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or America. I do own the hobos though.

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><p>America's P.O.V.<p>

June 25th, 1933

_Click-clack, click-clack_

The sound of a train hitting against the train tracks can be soothing, but man, this train is going way too slow! It's a drag, that's for sure. But hey, it's better than walking 2,000 miles across the dust bowl and over the Rocky Mountains. I'm not an Estby; Helga Estby and her daughter walked across the U.S. in 1839 for money. They got famous for it, but that's what most folks are doing now. They don't get nothing out of it either. They travel the land for jobs and some freight hop trains. It's illegal, but they take the risk. I'm taking the risk right now.

I survey the surroundings outside of the large opening of the platform car; I'm sitting on the edge of the opening. The train is going over of what used to be the Great Plains. There's nothing but dust and cracked rock now. My country is in turmoil. Not only do we have economic problems, but we are having troubles with Mother Nature! Why does the world hate my people? The twenties were roaring until 1929.

Black Tuesday.

That day will haunt me forever. The truth is that the economy was in a decline for six months, but that was the day when all hell broke loose. As soon as the stock market crashed, I broke down, coughing up blood. Congress made me stay in bed for three years because I was so sick.

I was growing restless and sicker until I got a new boss. My old boss kept me in the dark about everything that was going on in my country, but my new boss was different. He had faith in me. He told me everything. And in despair, I cried for my people. Yes, heroes cry too. How could I be so blind? I had to do something to help. Then I got an idea. I was going to take a trip across the land as a hobo to see things myself; the hobo part would be a disguise to make things easier.

So now I'm on my way to California in a white, short-sleeved button down shirt with brown slacks paired with a brown vest and dirty, brown Florsheim shoes. To top it all off, I got a brown brae. I began my journey from New York and since then, I have been traveling for two months. I trust my new boss to take care of things while I'm gone.

I'm currently traveling through the dust bowl; suddenly, a small cloud of dust came through the opening of the platform and into my lungs. I felt the sensation of a coughing attack tickle up my throat. I tried to stop it, but it was too late. I spent the next few minutes coughing dust back up. Then I heard a voice besides me, "Hey man, are you okay?" he asked. The young man had on an outfit similar to mine, only his pants and vest were black, and he did not have a brae. He had short, blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. His fair skin had patches of red all over, showing that he was in the sun a little too long.

I smile up at him. "Yeah, I'm okay," I replied. I laughed it off. The man had an unsure face, but he shrugged it off.

"Why don't you come sit with us?" he suggested. He pointed to a little clan of hoboes near the middle of the platform. They were staring at me, waiting for my answer.

They seemed nice so I said, "Sure."

"Great! Let me help you up." The man gives me one of his hands and pulls me up. We started walking to the group. He looks back at me. "By the way, my name's Jack."

We made our way towards the group. I sat down next to Jack. "Well, let's go in a circle and introduce ourselves. It's like being in school again," Jack announced.

A man across from us speaks up. "Hello, my name is Johnny, and this my wife, Marlene," he said. The lady next to him waves to me. Johnny had on black Florsheim shoes and black slacks. He also had on a white, short-sleeved button down shirt on. He had a on a black brae over his messy brown hair. Marlene had a light blue dress on that looked like it was made from chicken feed bags. She had an old, black Mary-Jane's and dirty white socks that went to her ankles. Marlene had a purple ribbon around her brown, bobbed hair as well.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I said. I was surprised to learn that they were married. They only looked like they're in their early twenties.

Next to Marlene was a teenage boy. "My name's Will," he said. The fair-skinned boy had on blue overalls and a white t-shirt. His tennis shoes had holes in them. He had strawberry blonde hair and baby blue eyes. He reminds me of myself when I was young.

A little boy sitting next to him tugged my sleeve a couple times. "I'm Theodore," he said. He had on the same outfit as Will. In fact, he looked like a mini version of Will except for his charcoal hair and grey brae. "What's your name?" he asked me.

I told him the name that I was using for the time being. "It's Al," I replied.

"It's nice to meet you, Al," Theodore said with a big smile on his face. I like this kid.

"So what brings you to the Dust Bowl?" Marlene asked.

"I'm traveling to California for a new start," I responded. It was partially the truth.

Marlene's face lit up when I mentioned California. "So are we! You know, the Great Depression hasn't hit Hollywood!" I made a confused face. "We're going to Hollywood, so I can be famous. I want to sing and dance like Laura La Plante! Back in Chicago, I was a flapper for a local radio show. I was there for two years before I got fired," she clarified.

"That's horrible," I said.

"Yes, but then I met Johnny at a soda fountain."

"Yep," Johnny imputed, "I was a soda jerk back then. After we met, we got married six months later."

They got married in a short amount of time. I had to ask, "How old are you two?"

"We're both 21," Marlene replied.

"Wow, that's young," I said.

"Yeah, but it's worth it when you're in love," Johnny said. He took Marlene's hand.

"And now she's our honorary road sister," Jack said. Everyone laughed except me. "That's hobo slang for a female hobo," he added.

"Oh...right," I said awkwardly.

"Don't worry, it took me awhile to learn all the terms," Jack said.

"Where are you headed?" I asked.

"I'm off to Idaho," he said, "I have family there who need me. You see, when the stock market crashed, my family lost all of our savings. I was seventeen at the time, so I thought I could go out and find a job. It's been two years since I left and still nothing. Unemployment just keeps rising." My boss said that it has risen by 25%. "Anyway, I have to go back to help my sick mother take care of the kids."

"I hope she gets better," I said sincerely.

Jack turned his head to me sadly. "Me too, Al. Me too."

I looked over to Theodore who was scratching his head like crazy. "What's the matter with you?" I questioned.

"He's got a bad case of the crums," Will answered.

"What's that?"

Will sighed. "It's lice man."

I scooted away from Theodore. "Don't worry, I won't touch you or your bindle stuff," Theodore reassured. Bindle stuff is belongings and bedding that a hobo carries with him. I know that much. "Our uncle in Oregon will get rid of my crums when we get there. At least I didn't get them as soon as we ran away."

"Shut your bazoo, Theodore!" Will exclaimed.

"You two ran away from home?" I asked. They nodded.

"I told them that they should go back. It's dangerous for children to freight hop a train," Johnny said.

"It's dangerous for women too, yet you still bring Marlene!" Will shouted, "Didn't you hear what happened in Scottsboro?"

"Those boys didn't do it. I don't believe those women," Marlene argued.

I needed to change the subject, but I did agree with Marlene. "Why did you two leave?" I asked.

Will took a deep breath before answering me. "When Theodore's parents died, my mom had to take him in. Let's just say that she wasn't ever fit as a parent, so I'm taking Theodore to my dad's in Oregon."

"Will has been taking very good care of me since we left Ohio," Theodore said.

"And I'm escorting them to Oregon before I go home," Jack added.

"Which you really don't have to do," Will said while rolling his eyes.

"Yes he does," Marlene said.

Will rolled his eyes again. "I think they're doing an amazing job so far," I imputed.

Will and Theodore looked at me with surprised faces. "How can you say that, Al?" Marlene asked. "How would you feel if your child was running across the country all alone?" I wanted to tell her that I would never know since I can never have kids, but I just stayed silent. "That's what I thought," she said.

"At least the Hoovervilles are safe for the most part," Johnny said.

"Yeah, we survived a bajillian of those," Theodore proclaimed.

"I've been to a couple of those," I said. Those places make me want to cry. The homeless make homes out of scraps, abandoned cars, and parking crates. It pains me to see so many people who are cold and hungry. To blend in, I had to sleep under a box. For the whole night, I was shaking up a storm; I prayed that I wouldn't die. As each morning came, I thanked God that I was still alive. What I should have done was prayed for the people who died each night from the cold.

I still remember every single face from those nights. At least I can go back to the White House; these people have to live like this for who knows how many years to come. "Al, are you alright?" Marlene asked sweetly.

I coughed and wiped the tears coming from my eyes. "Yes, I just had bad experiences in those places," I said.

"That's why I like hobo jungles better," Jack imputed, "it's more civilized." Then he grabbed an abandoned nail next to him. He drew a circle with two arrows pointing out of it into the wood. "For future reference, this is a hobo sign. They help us to look out for trouble and generosity. Look out for these next time you need a place to stay."

Theodore jumped up from his seat and ran next to Jack. "I know those signs, too!" he exclaimed, "Will and I always look for four line signs for ace notes and nickel notes."

What is this boy talking about? I shot Will a confused face. "We're house dogs," Will explained. "We look for houses to do chores for money."

"It always feels nice to work," Johnny sighed.

"I guess you had heard about FDR's New Deal too," I mentioned.

Will's face lit up. "You bet! Our new president is great! He's actually trying to get us jobs."

"Like the CCC program," I added, "young boys like you can get a job at a park."

"Really? That's great!" he exclaimed. I like this new side to Will.

"I can't believe Hoover even tried to be president again. You just can't compete with Roosevelt," Jack said laughing.

Johnny stood up. "Don't get me started on him. If I ever run into that mongrel, I'll give him one of these." He raised his right fist. "Then I'll give him one of these." He raised his left fist. Then he began to punch the air repeatedly. We all burst out laughing.

"You tell him honey!" Marlene laughed. I can't tell you how nice it is to laugh like this.

Then Theodore said something that I will never forget. "I do feel bad for Mr. America right now. He had to deal with that evil man for four years." The platform car became silent.

I stared at the young lad for a moment; I couldn't believe this child felt sorry for me! I wanted to tell him that I was going to be okay. I coughed into my sleeve, and I went up to him. I laid my hand on his shoulder despite his lice. "Don't worry, little buddy. I know he is going to be alright," I told him.

He glanced up at me with his big, turquoise eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm positive," I replied. He gave me a toothy grin, and I smiled back.

Then Theodore ran up to Marlene and Johnny. "Miss Marlene, can you sing us a song?" he asked.

Marlene beamed. "Sure, honey. Johnny, get out your guitar," she said.

Johnny went to the back of the platform car where he had his guitar case. How did I not notice this before? He got out and old, beat up acoustic guitar. "I didn't know you could play," I said.

"Huh? Oh, well I wanted to sell it, but Marlene wouldn't let me," he replied embarrassed. Then he played a few chords as Marlene sang in a sweet voice:

_Oh! We ain't got a barrel of money;__  
><em>_Maybe we're ragged and funny.__  
><em>_But we travel along, singing a song,__  
><em>_Side by side._

_Don't know what's comin' tomorrow;  
>Maybe it's trouble and sorrow,<br>But we'll travel along, sharin' our load,  
>Side by side.<em>

This song was really fitting, and she sang better than anyone else I have heard. I listened intently for the whole song. When she finished, I complemented her and she blushed. The rest of the group talked for a while before it was time for me to go. The train stopped in a little town in Colorado. "I thought you were going to California?" Johnny asked.

"I have some business here first," I told him.

"Oh, we'll miss you," Marlene said. I gave her a hug and shook Johnny's hand.

"I'll miss you too," I said. Then I shook Will's hand, and Theodore gave me a hug. "Stay out of trouble you two."

"We will!" Theodore exclaimed.

Then I went up to Jack and shook his hand. "Thanks for everything," I said.

"No problem, happy to do it," he replied.

Then I jumped off the train and ran so the engineers wouldn't see me. I turned back to wave goodbye. They waved back, even Will. Then I ran into town.

I would never see them again. I always wondered what if Theodore and Will made it to Oregon; I hoped they did. I know that Johnny and Jack served in the army, but I don't know if they survived. Marlene never made it big, but I am sure she still sang for a couple clubs. I wondered if I should ever go see them, but they're probably dead by now. Even if they were alive, they wouldn't recognize me. That's the worst thing about being a country. You live for a very long time while you watch people die who made a difference in your life. I almost died in the Great Depression, but FDR didn't give up on me. That's why he's one of my favorite bosses.

You know, I learned a few things in the '30s.

One: I will never let my people suffer like that again.

Two: I will never get that sick again.

Three: I will never lose hope.

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><p>AN: I hoped you like this first chapter! I plan to create a story like this for most countries in the Hetalia universe. So if you have any ideas, please tell me! I'm also posting this story on my deviantart account if you want to go there (chippy-lightgaia)

And now some history facts that I used in this story:

The Great Depression officially started on October 29th, 1929 also known as Black Tuesday. Herbert Hoover was president at the time.

Laura La Plante was a famous flapper and actress in the 1920s and 30s.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR) took office in March 1933. He quickly made programs like the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corp) to create jobs. The CCC put young men to work in federal and state parks.

FDR's New Deal was a series of programs to create jobs, but it didn't really help the economy heal. World War II really helped get us out of the depression.

Hobos had some slang words back in the day:

ace notes=$1 dollar bills  
>nickel notes=$5 dollar bills<br>drag=a slow moving freight train  
>house dog=someone who cleans windows, beats carpets, does other housework<p>

I used other slang in the story, but I explained it better.

The Scottsboro Trials were trials about an alleged gang rape of two white girls by nine black teenagers on the Southern Railroad freight run from Chattanooga to Memphis on March 25, 1931. This crime created more trials, convictions, and retrials than any other crime.

"Side by Side" was a song created in 1927 by Harry M. Woods and made popular by Kay Starr in 1953.

Again, if you have any ideas for future chapters, I would be happy to hear them; also, please give some feedback about this chapter but no flames please!


	2. France and the French Revolution

_"Had you but seen it, I promise you, your high-minded principles would have melted like candle wax. Never would you have wished such beauty away." _

_ -_Jennifer Donnelly, _Revolution _

__The italic words are in French.

Disclaimer: I do not own France or Hetalia.

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><p>France's P.O.V.<p>

October 16th, 1793

_Je souffre_; I am suffering. I haven't been in this much pain since Jeanne d'Arc was killed. Lately, there has been so much rebellion and murder that it makes my head spin. I wouldn't call this a war anymore; it's more of a revolution.

This revolution began when my late boss, Louis XVI, was in power. He was only 15 years old when he became king; then he married Marie Antoinette of Austria. This marriage was a political decision between the Bourbon family and the Hapsburgs of Austria. Marie was the daughter of Maria Theresa, so you would think that they would teach her how to run a country. The problem was that she and Louis were so young and unprepared. The couple loved to spend money, and my boss loved to get into wars. I think he inherited that from his grandfather, King Louis XV. He caused me lose the Seven Years; not to mention I was already in debt from building the palace of Versailles in 1682. I have had a cold for more than twenty years now.

The palace of Versailles is only twelve miles from Paris, but we still had no idea what was happening in Paris. I had to stay with my boss in Versailles, and it was very difficult to get out of the palace. I admit that I should have known that a rebellion would start though, especially with the ideas of Jean Rousseau and John Locke being spread like the plague. I should have said something to my boss, but I didn't. Now my boss is dead and his wife is on trial.

It's almost 4 a.m. and I am waiting for the verdict of Marie Antoinette. I have had to sit on a bench outside of the courtroom for reasons unknown to me. It's so frustrating. Anyways, she was put on trial for treason, extravagant spending, and incest of her son. The spending and treason I understand, but the incest of her child is repulsive. When I was living with them in Versailles, I never saw her touch her little boy. I never really liked Marie, but this was too much.

Sitting outside a courtroom by yourself gets you thinking. Based on my actions throughout the past few years, I guess I'm not as aristocratic as I thought. I remember going to Paris for the National Assembly and watching the Tennis Court Oath form. At the time, Maximilian Robespierre was really starting to become popular among my lower class people; he was giving the Third Estate a _voix_, a voice. The new National Assembly made this oath to create a new constitution.

Then July 14th came. A mob was forming in Paris from all the tension of Louis's decisions. They needed gunpowder; so to meet their needs, they decided to storm the Bastille prison. Despite my cold, I was still in Paris; I was getting pushed and shoved by angry Parisians. That day was when I saw only the colors of red, blue, white, and colors of red, blue, and white were worn by the Parisian people; these colors later become the colors of the revolution. Then the orange came when they lit the Bastille on fire. I can still feel the flames warm on my skin. The Parisians also had the prison guards' heads on stakes and were parading them on the streets. I never knew how much hate lied in the hearts of my people. This was the true start of the revolution. Then more crazy things happened.

This newspaper reporter named Marat began writing about how much he hated the monarchy and even accused them of burning the French flag. That accusation really broke my heart. New revolts began from his words of rebellion.

Despite the revolution, I was still sick. The price of bread was very high which angered many Parisian women. These women were not petite things; they were as big and scary as Russian soldiers. They marched right into Versailles, killing all the guards. They almost caught me with a stake, aiming for my heart, because they were in the heat of the moment. I had to shout, "_Sacre bleu! C'est moi! _ It is me!" They shooed me aside when they finally figured it out.

Then they went after Marie, but they didn't catch her. They did get Louis to sign the Declaration Rights of Man and Citizen which took away the power of the monarch. The mob also told him that he had to move to Paris; it was really going downhill for my boss. We left the palace hearing, "Liberty-Equality-Fraternity!"

As I was remembering the chant, some national guards led Marie out of the courtroom. I stood up as they passed me, but they didn't even give me a sidewise glance. I had to wait until all the citizens left the courtroom before entering the room and walking up to a juror. "What's the verdict?" I asked.

"Death by the guillotine," the man said.

I nodded and asked, "At what time is her death scheduled for?"

"Noon," he replied. Then he walked out the room with the other jurors.

I ran my hand through my blonde hair; she was to be beheaded just like her husband. I decided that I would go see her before she was executed, so I left to go to La Conciergerie, the prison where she was held.

Marie was kept in a room at the top of the woman's court, isolated from the other prisoners. She only attempted to escape one time, but obviously failed. I walked down the hallway until I arrived at her cell. The head guardsman gave me the keys to her cell, but I decided not to open it yet. There was a national guardsman with a tailcoat of blue and cuffs of _rouge_ in the cell with her; she was on around the clock watch on her since she tried to escape. What a foolish woman. "_Bonjour, monsieur," _I said to him.

The guard turned to acknowledge me. Marie stayed in her same position. Her back was to me, and she was writing something. She was wearing a long white dress and a white bonnet to hold her long, grey hair. I cleared my throat to get her attention. Marie turned to me calmly. Her blue eyes looked exhausted and her face was aged beyond her years. She looked like an old woman considering she was in her upper thirties. "I already know my fate," she said.

"I know; I just wanted to see you." She turned back to her desk. "You look mighty calm for someone who is about to die," I stated.

"_Ça m'est __é__gal. _I do not care about my life anymore. My children are more important to me. Please make sure Élisabeth takes care of them." Élisabeth is her sister-in-law. I can't believe she was pleading me.

"I will try," I said.

"No you won't." She glared directly in my eyes. "You hate me like everyone else in this country."

That made me angry. "Well, can you blame me? With all your purchasing and gambling, you just made me sicker and sicker. You and your husband were grinding me into the dust. I can't believe Austria and Prussia wanted Louis to stay in charge!" I was letting everything out at that moment.

"They were just scared that a revolution would commence in their territories." Marie's voice was still calm.

I threw my hands up in the air. "Maybe a revolution should begin all over the world like in America! All of these countries need to be enlightened."

Marie stood up and the guard did not move. "Look where that has gotten us. It has resulted in wars and bloodshed. You lost your friendship with Prussia from war."

She had a point. "That's true, but I also lost the monarchy's trust." I ran up to the cell bars and grabbed them fiercely. "Your family actually tried to run away to Austria! My own boss betrayed me." My voice was spitting out flames of hate.

Marie threw her arms in the air. "Just look at you! You're acting like a Jacobin." She was right on the looks part. I had on a blue waistcoat and tailcoat; my breeches were blue as well. I also had on white socks and black shoes. I wish I could wear more colorful clothes, but it was for the cause. "What would you do if you were me? I was trying to protect my family. The truth is, France, you betrayed us." Her voice was cracking.

I was taken back at that comment. Deep down, I knew it was for their safety, but they still shouldn't have run away. It just made the public despise them more. Marie fell to her knees and placed her head into her hands; then she started to cry. "I'm sorry, France. _Je regrette." _

I opened the jail cell with the keys that the head guard gave me. The guard began to walk towards me, but I waved my hand to him. He obeyed and stopped in his tracks. I walked to stand before her. "It's not entirely your fault, Marie Antoinette. You and Louis were unprepared. You became queen at a time of change; it was just bad timing." I knelt down and placed my hand on her shoulder. "I do still have a disliking of you, but I forgive you. It will take time for me to heal though."

I lifted her chin up to gaze into her eyes. There was a mixture of fear and happiness in her greyish-blue orbs. "_Merci, _I needed to hear that, France. Can you do one last thing for me?"

"What is your request?"

She stood up and went to her desk; she folded a piece of paper in half and handed it to me. I stood up with a puzzled expression. "Can you give this letter to Élisabeth for me? It's a goodbye letter to her and my children."

I gave her a sympathetic look. "_Oui, _I will."

Marie gave me one last smile. Suddenly, the door to Marie's prison cell burst wide open. It was some national guards and a few of Robepierre's men coming for Marie. Her end was near. I quickly tucked the letter in my waistcoat. One of the guards took Marie's arm and sat her down on a chair. He took off her bonnet and got out some scissors. He sheared off Marie's long grayish hair. Then the guard was joined by another guard as they proceeded to take Marie to the carriage. They didn't even notice I was there. When they were a few paces in front of me, I began to follow them.

A few minutes later, we were walking outside to the wagon. Wait...a wagon? I stopped for a minute because I was so shocked. When Louis was beheaded, he was taken by a covered carriage. They're just giving her an open wagon like a normal person. Even Marie stopped for a second before she was escorted on to the wagon.

Then a guard gave a signal for the horses to go. I followed the National Guard behind the wagon. Marie sat up straight with dignity as the mob began to throw terrible insults to her. Then the wagon halted about ten feet away from the guillotine.

Two new guards took her arms as she walked down the steps of the wagon. I shoved my way to the front of the crowd. This was Jeanne d'Arc all over again. Marie slowly climbed the steps to the death machine. She accidently stepped on the executioner's foot. "Pardon me, sir. I did not do it on purpose," she said. Those were her last words.

The crowd became silent as she was strapped to the bed of the machine. As they performed the finishing touches, I prayed for her. Then the blade was released and her head was detached from her neck. Fresh blood stains were added to the blade. The crowd cheered as the executioner held up the head of the late queen.

When the hype died down, I went back to the courthouse. I walked into the building and sat on the same bench that I was sitting on earlier. I pulled out the letter from Marie. At least her children will get a goodbye from their mother. "The country is fully ours, eh France?" a voice asked.

I lifted my head up to see to whom the voice belonged to. His square head and white wig made me recognize him instantly. My current boss, Maximilian Robespierre. I sighed, "Yes, it is ours at last."

"What is that?" He was pointing to the letter. I stared at him for a moment, deciding if I should tell him. "You can trust me." His tone of voice said otherwise, but I had to answer my boss.

"It's a letter from Marie Antoinette to her sister-in-law, Élisabeth. She asked me to give it to her."

"You can hand it to me. I'll give it to her." He held his hand out, but I didn't give it to him. "Come on, you can trust your boss." Hesitantly, I handed him the letter. "_Merci beaucoup, _now if you excuse me, I have some business to attend to," then I was alone again.

He told me that I could trust him, but my heart told me that there was more bloodshed ahead. He already has sent over a hundred nobles to the guillotine. His reign of terror was just going to continue, I could feel it. Who knows when this revolution will end, but it's not going to be anytime soon. I just hope that Élisabeth gets that letter.

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><p>AN: This was one of the most challenging chapters, and it's only the second one! It was difficult because I had so much information that I didn't know what to do with it. It took me a while to organize it all. Anyway, here are some facts:

Marie Antoinette was born on November 2, 1755 in Vienna, Austria. She marries Louis XVI when she was 15 years old. She was never popular in France from the start from buying expensive things and gambling. After Louis and the family moved to Paris, they tried to run away to Austria. Louis was sent to the guillotine for treason on January 21st, 1793. She was sent to the guillotine on October 16th, 1793.

The guillotine was a machine made by Joseph-Ignace Guillotin. It was used as capitol punishment in France and other European countries. France used the guillotine until 1977.

The Old Regime was the aristocratic, social, and political system in France from the 15th century to the late 18th century. France used "estates" as a social pyramid. The 1st Estate was 1% of the population and was made up of the clergy. The Second Estate was 2% of the population and was made up by the nobility. The Third Estate was everybody else.

Jean-Paul Marat was a popular, radical journalist and politician. He wrote his ideas and opinions in his paper, _L'Ami du peuple_. Marat had a skin disease, so he wrote his paper while he was in a bathtub. He was killed by Charlotte Corday, and he was seen as a martyr.

The Jacobin Club was the most famous political club of the French Revolution. Probably the most famous member was Maximilian Robespierre. He became the dictator of France after Louis XVI was killed. During his reign, he sent thousands of people to the guillotine for very little charges. He only ruled for a year, but his reign is known as the Reign of Terror.

Also, Elisabeth never got the letter.

Now a French lesson:

Je souffre. = I am suffering.  
>voix = voice<br>C'est moi. = It's me.  
>Je regrette. = I'm sorry.<br>Ca m'est egal. = I don' care; It doesn't matter to me.  
>merci = thank you<p>

Now please review and no flames please! I also need ideas for future chapters, so if you have any please tell me!


	3. Romano and the First Mafia War

_We only kill each other._

-Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel

The italics are for flashbacks and Italian words. This idea was given to me by rubyredroses1. I do not own Romano or Hetalia.

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><p>Romano's P.O.V.<p>

September 2nd, 1963

_Click! _The lamp above me was turned on. I squinted so my eyes could get used to the sudden bright light. "_Ciao_, Mr. Romano. Welcome to the Palermo City Hall. My name is Gianni Cannoli, and I will be questioning you." He was standing in front of me; the plump detective had short, brown hair and brown eyes and had a black suit on. He kind of looked like Grandpa Rome from a sidewise glance. The man was also smoking a cigar. Yep…typical detective.

I chuckled at his funny last name. "Cannoli, like the pastry?" I asked.

Cannoli sat down on the seat across from me. "Don't get smart from me, Romano." He tapped some ashes of his cigar into the ashtray next to him. "Do you know why you are here?"

I surveyed the little dark room. The only light was from the lamp, but I could see the outline of the door in the corner of my eye. "_Si,_ I was dragged into this interrogation room because some bastard snitched on me. I can honestly say that I'm not a Mafioso."

"Oh yeah? Just take a look at your clothes," he snickered.

I was wearing a black suit with a white, long-sleeved shirt underneath it. Around my neck laid a red tie, along with a black velour hat on top of my head. I took my hat off and placed it on the table. "What can I say? These clothes are comfortable."

"Enough beating around the bush, Romano. Tell us your connections with the mob!"

I sighed. "Why should I tell you? You have 2,000 Mafiosi arrested."

Cannoli ran his hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. "Look, aren't you supposed to help all of your people?"

"The mafia are my people too, damn it!" I exclaimed.

Cannoli's eyes widen from my sudden outburst. His eyes softened a bit. "Please tell us, _fratello. _It could help bring closure to peoples' families, like your Ciacci friend. Didn't he die in the massacre?"

The struck a chord with me. Giorgio Ciacci was part of the Italian army that I met during some training programs. He died saving me. That's when I decided to give in. "Alright, I'll tell you what I know. I can never show my face to the mafia again though. I might even have to go under witness protection."

"Don't worry, we won't mention your name when we give our reports," he said. I rolled my eyes, and he laughed at my last attempt to get the hell out of there. He then pulled out a cassette recorder. I raised one eyebrow. "This is for future reference; it won't be released into the public. Don't think much about it. You're not the only one who has spilled the beans. Now tell us your side of the story." He pressed the record button on the machine. I took a deep breath, and I began my story.

"Let's start in the beginning, shall we? The reason that the mafia came to Palermo in the first place is because of money; they go where the money goes. They were interested in the urban property, commercial transportation, food markets, and other things in this area."

"That's understandable," Cannoli imputed.

"But those weren't the only businesses they were apart of. The whole mafia war started when a heroin shipment to America mysteriously disappeared."

"So America had something to do with this?" Cannoli asked.

"No, I doubt he even knows about the heroin. Anyway, the Sicilian Mafia Commission could not find the man behind the disappearance." Cannoli gave me a confused look. I sighed again; this moron must be new. "The SAC is like the Mafia Congress. That's when people started pointing fingers. The La Barbara clan thought it was Di Pisa of the Greco clan, so they assassinated him. The Greco clan thought it was Angelo and Salvatore La Barbara."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I don't belong to one clan; I was respected by every single Mafioso," I clarified.

"You were like the top boss then."

I shook my head. "N-n-no, I say I was more like the therapist for all the clans. They confided in me because they knew I wouldn't spill the information to the other clans."

"Other clans… so all this blaming each other was created tensions. Is that what led to all those assassinations?"

"You are correct, I'm afraid." Lately, the clans have been sending assassinators and hit men after each other. Different types of Mafiosi were being killed by car bombs and shootings. Sometimes ordinary citizens would get in the way and were murdered as well. "I even saw Angelo La Barbara's murder attempt."

Cannoli's face perked up. "You saw the Milan incident?" I nodded.

"I had to escort Angelo to Milan; he thought he would be safer with me." I snickered. "Boy, he was wrong. He got attacked in the city, but he survived."

"That's when things got worse from there," Cannoli sighed. He inhaled his cigar deeply. I looked down. "A couple months later, the Ciaculli Massacre happened."

Cannoli's eyes filled up with sympathy. "Romano, I know this is hard, but you have to go into detail. We need to know what happened on that day." Wow, this bastard really did feel sorry for me. Maybe I was wrong about this guy.

"I don't know exactly all of it, but I will try."

"Go ahead when you're ready." I sighed and began to tell him this story:

_It was late June; tensions were high in the city of Palermo. I was in the suburb of Ciaculli. I was in a market getting some tomatoes. Then two Mafiosi came up to me. I recognized them instantly because they were part of the Sicilian clan. I confronted them. "What are you two idiots doing here?" I asked. _

"_We're just checking out the scenery, but we're leaving soon, don't worry," said one of them. He was in a black suit and had a thick mustache. Then the other one leaned closer to me. He looked like his friend without the ridiculous mustache. _

"_You better leave the area, Romano. There's going to an event at Greco's place."_ "_What do you mean?" I asked. _

"_We already said too much," the mustached man said. They ran off with that looked like I would have to find out for myself, so I paid the cashier and ran to Greco's place with my bag of tomatoes. _

_When I got to his house, everything seemed normal. His car was in front of his home, so he had to be home. Then I thought about the car. I think I knew what was going to happen. I had to check under the car, so I got out a tomato and "accidently" dropped it on the ground. When I bend over to the get the squished tomato, I quickly glanced under the car. Yep, there was a bomb set for fifteen minutes. I quickly stood up and went to the nearest payphone. My distress call made the police and military come to the scene. _

_As soon as the military came to the scene, people were starting to gather. Police had shields to back them off, and they evacuated Greco from his home. Men from the military were called upon to dissemble the bomb. Giorgio was one of them. I tried to go help my friend, but a police man stopped me. He made me go evacuate with the others. I tried to protest, but he pleaded, "Please sir. This is too dangerous for you." I was about to object, but I forced myself to obey. _

_I glanced over to Giorgio before I left, and he turned to me. We nodded to each other, and I ran. His face showed some fear, yet he was calm. That was the last time I saw him alive. _

_When I was at least 20 feet from Greco's house, I stopped and waited for the bomb to go off. As the seconds ticked by, I became more and more nervous; I was shaking from fear. By the time the cops showed up and people were evacuated, the bomb only had a few more minutes. Another 30 seconds went by, and I thought the bomb was a dud. I began to walk back thinking it was safe. What a foolish move._

_When I was ten feet from the bomb, it went off. The car exploded, and the men were blown into an inferno cloud. I jumped back from the explosion too. I was passed out for a few minutes; I woke up to patches of flames everywhere and body parts scattered about. I quickly scanned my body to see if I didn't lose anything. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw I had both of my arms and legs, but the feeling didn't last long. _

_I stood up to examine the damage. There were bodies all over the ground. It took me a minute, but I finally found Giorgio. He was on his stomach close to the car (what was left of it). I knelt down to him and turned him over carefully. I could hear the ambulance coming, but it was too late. Giorgio was dead. I didn't even get to say a formal goodbye. Tears came out of my eyes and fell onto his face. When the ambulance came, they took me to the hospital and put Giorgio into a body bag. I never saw my friend again._

"I'm sorry for your loss, Romano," Cannoli said, bringing me back into reality.

"Do you happen to know who was behind the bombing?"

"I heard Torretta was behind it," I replied. Cannoli nodded and stopped the recorder.

"Thank you for your time, Romano," he said. The he pointed to the door, allowing me to exit. I stood up and left without a word.

I decided that Cannoli was a good man, but I knew not to fully trust him. After the massacre, there was a crack down on the mafia. People were outraged from all the killings. As I walk out of the building, I think on how many more Mafiosi will go into hiding. The SAC is not going to survive much longer, that's for sure.

When I walked outside, I glance up at the clear sky. This nice day is mocking me. It's saying how it's better than me, and the sad thing is, it is true. Then I heard a familiar chirp at a nearby tree. It looked like that stupid bird from my childhood, all plump and gray. At first I was starting to get agitated, but then I took a deep breath to calm myself down. I placed my cap on my head and descended down the steps.

If this was a normal day, I would have thrown a rock at that bird. I didn't though. Too many lives have been ruined by me, and I did not feel like ruining another one.

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><p>This chapter was kind of hard to write, but I got through it. The historical event was the First Mafia War in Sicily if you didn't know. If you want to know more about it or have any questions please ask me or go to this site: 2010/08/10/first-mafia-war/ It's where I got most of my information. Giorgio Ciacci was a real victim in the Ciaculli Massacre as well. The massacre was the climax of the war. If you have any suggestions, please tell me. Review and no flames please! This was edited by Jinxometer.


	4. Sealand and the Fire

_The turning point in the process of growing up is when you discover the core of strength within you that survives all hurt._

-Max Lerner

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or the series in this story. They are either real life/real life based people, or they are characters owned by Himaruya Hidekaz.

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><p>Sealand's P.O.V.<p>

June 23, 2006

Perfect. Everything was perfect. My legs were swinging off the right side of my land made of metal. The sun was shining, and I could hear the seagulls chirping. Things were going great on my little home. I may be small, but I have a big heart. HavenCo was going smoothly, so I had no big reparations today.

The breeze was blowing the ribbons on my hat onto my shoulders; I giggled from the tickling sensation. The day was wonderful as usual. The only odd thing was the seagulls were flying in the opposite direction, away from me. That's strange; they usually fly towards me. I shrugged it off, and I closed my eyes with content. Nothing could ruin this moment.

"_FIRE!"_ a voice screamed. "There's a fire, Sealand!"

My eyes shot open, and I snapped around. "Fire? Where? How?" I asked utterly confused.

"The top platform on the left Rough Tower. Something happened with the electricity," the man replied hastily. "We have to get out of here!"

I stood up with determination. "I'll to stop the flames, Thomas. Stay here until I get back." I then ran inside the building.

I could faintly hear Thomas shout, "No, it's too dangerous!" Thomas was a security person for my boss and I. He was an older man, about mid-fifties. He wore all black: black short-sleeved button down shirt, black pants, and black shoes to look the part. He was bald, but had a stubby, gray beard. Thomas kept shouting at me to come back, but I didn't listen. I needed to protect my land.

I went inside to hurry to the left tower. As I was making though the building, I alerted Sealanders to evacuate the area. I was running to the tower when I ran into my boss. He had on a semi-business outfit on, and he was in his eighties. His face had on a panicked look. My boss grabbed my shoulders. "We have to get out of here, Sealand!" he shouted.

I glanced behind him and saw his family. They had frightened looks on their faces. The air was becoming darker and smokier. "Get out of here, sir! I'm going to stop the fire!" I exclaimed.

"I already called the Royal Air Force. Help is on the way. Please Sealand, I do not want to lose you!"

My face turned into a scowl. "I don't need Jerk England's help!" I ran past my boss's family; then I quickly looked back. "I will be fine sir, but you have to leave! You can't take these conditions!" I turned back and ran further into the smoke.

The air was dark and filled with smoke. The skinny hallway could not take all of this heat. The dark smoke filled my eyes and lungs. I kept coughing to try to release the smoke from my lungs, but the smoke would just be replaced.

I finally reached the door the left tower, but it was so hot that I was immediately burned to the touch. I grasped my hand in pain and let out of a cry. Tears sprung to eyes. Flames were escaping the door. I leaned against the wall. I would not cry, not this time. More and more smoke was filling my lungs; I felt like I was drowning.

This is how it's like to die. The heat was burning my skin, and the smoke was damaging my sight. It wasn't fair. I didn't get to show the world my greatness, and how I deserved to be a country. A nation doesn't die from a stupid little fire! I would never pass up England. I needed that jerk now. I needed somebody, anybody.

With one last once of my breath, I cried, "Help!" Then I fell to the ground on my side.

For a moment, I only heard the crackling of flames. Then I heard, "Peter! Sealand!"

I wheezed, "Here."

I saw the shadows of two figures coming towards me through the smoke. They must have been angels coming to take me to another world. I smiled as I blacked out.

My eyes opened slightly the sound of voices. All I could see was a blur, but I could definitely hear people. I looked up to see two green orbs staring at me. Occasionally I hear orders shouted. Who was this person? I titled my head to the left. There was blue all around. I was in the sky, I must be in heaven. I also saw a big cloud of smoke. The huge funnel was rising to the sky. At least I was breathing clean air. Wait, breathing? Before I could question it, I passed out again.

_Beep…beep…beep_

My eyes flittered open to the sound of a machine. My vision was blurry for a moment but then it focused. I stared straight at a white wall and slowly I began to look around the bright room. On the right of me, there was a table and some type of monitor. My right index finger had a clip on it attached to the monitor. Where was I? My right hand clenched the semi-soft blanket. I looked down at my chest. My left arm was bandaged and tucked to my chest. Memories came flooding back to what happened. The fire. What happened to my home? What happened to me?

I faintly heard voices close by. I glanced to the right to see where those voices where coming from. Two figures were standing and talking outside a large window. One man was wearing a lab coat and the other was wearing a white-buttoned down shirt and black pants. Oh, no. It couldn't be. As they were talking, they glanced at me. They saw me staring at them and made their way to the door.

The man in the lab coat walked in first followed by the man in the white-buttoned down shirt, whom fast paced to my left side. "England?" I tried to say. Some type of mask was blocking my mouth. The man in the lab coat took the mask off my mouth and placed it on the table. "Hello, Sealand. My name is Dr. Frost. How are you feeling?" he asked. Dr. Frost was blonde and looked to be about in his early-forties.

"Okay," I replied meekly.

England looked up at the doctor. "Doctor, is it alright if we had some time alone? We need to talk." he said.

Dr. Frost checked the heart monitor and then nodded. "Sure, but only for a little bit. He needs to save his energy." England nodded in agreement, and the doctor left.

England and I just stared at each other for a few moments. Neither of us knew what to say to each other. Any other day, I would mock him and his jerk ways, but this was a different. England went to the corner to pull a chair next to my bed. He sat down and stayed silent. I had to break this awkward silence, so I said, "Hi."

"Hi," he replied. He placed his hands across his lap.

Now it was time for details. "What happened to me? Where am I?" I asked.

"You are in Ipswich Hospital in Suffolk. You are in my home."

My face squeezed into a scowl. "Ew, couldn't you take me somewhere else?" I whined.

England sighed and crossed his arms. "I saved you from a tragic fire and this is how you treat me?"

I turned my head away from him. "This is how you always treat me," I muttered.

"What did you say?"

I faced him. "Nothing, nothing." Then I turned my head back to opposite side of him.

I heard another sigh from him. "Peter," he said using my real name, "you almost died yesterday."

Yesterday? I snapped my head back to him. "How long was I out?"

England relaxed, and his arms returned to his lap. "At least twelve hours, you had more burns and smoke in your lungs than that other guy."

Other guy? "Who are you talking about?"

"He is some type of security man, a Mr. Freeman."

My eyes widened. "Thomas! Is he okay?"

England was taken aback from my sudden outburst but reclined back to his former position. "He is fine; he just had inhaled a little too much smoke. He was discharged this morning."

I sighed in relief. "Thank goodness."

Then England's bushy eyebrows burrowed in irritation. "Sealand, you did a stupid thing back there. You alone could not stop that fire. Why did you go back?"

My cheeks were starting to flush with anger. "I was trying to save my home! Wouldn't you do the same?"

"Unlike some people I know," his tone was sarcastic, "I know how to ask for assistance."

I turned my head away from him. "I don't believe you. Besides, I didn't ask for anybody's help!"

England smacked his forehead frustrated. "You are such a child! If your boss didn't call me," he said jumping out of his seat, "you would have been engulfed in flames!"

My throat was chocking up. _I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. _"What do you care?" I still refused to face him.

He threw his arms up in the air. "If I didn't care, would I call the Royal Air Force or the coast guard or the Brightwell Firefighting tug boat just to save a tiny ex-fort? Huh?"

"I-I don't know!" I exclaimed. I was sniffling as tears came spilling out. _No, please. _

England placed his hand over his face. "You child. You stupid child." His voice was cracking a bit.

I straightened my head as I barked out, "I know!" The tears were clogging my throat, so it was hard to talk. I managed to say, "I-I just w-wanted to s-save my land! I wanted t-to prove how s-strong I c-could be!" I let out loud sobs. I wiped my eyes with my free arm.

England just stared at me for a moment. I don't think he expected me to cry. He took a few breaths to calm down. Then he handed me a handkerchief from his pocket. "Here, blow," he commanded softly. I blew my nose with a loud _honk!_ He sat on the side of my bed. "It will be alright, lad. Your home can be rebuilt." He paused to take a breath. "I'm sorry for upsetting you. I was just scared and angry at the same time." My sobs slowly quieted down. I stared into his green eyes. "People do care for you. Thomas Freeman wouldn't have risked his life for you if he didn't care." England turned his head away from me and closed his eyes. "I was in the helicopter with RAF. When I saw that smoke," his eyes opened, "I thought the worse. We landed on your land, and I found Mr. Freeman. He wanted to come with me to find you. I tried to talk him out of it, but he refused. When we found you slouched by the flames, my heart dropped." He looked at me. "I'm telling you the honest truth."

My head tilted in a questioning way. "You mean all that?" He nodded. I could not believe what I was hearing. "Did you get hurt?"

"Not much. I just inhaled some smoke and a few burnt scratches. I will heal. I won't have everlasting scars from this like you." His eyes pointed to my arm.

I glanced at my bandaged hand. "Yeah," I said. I smiled and looked at England. "It's my first battle scar! Pretty cool, huh?"

He chuckled. "Yep," he replied. He then stood up. "Get some rest, Sealand. You can probably go home tomorrow. Put your oxygen mask back on."

"But I don't need it!" He gave me a stern look as I huffed. "Fine." He smiled triumphantly and walked to the door. A question came to mind. "Hey England, do you see me as a country now?"

He stopped in front of the door. "No," he whispered. He opened the door and glanced back at me. "See you later." He smirked at me and left.

My mouth hung open in shock. I sighed and force the oxygen mask on. _Jerk, _I thought. Even after all of this, he still didn't see me as a nation. Fine, who needs him?

I laid my head against my pillow and closed my eyes. As soon as I return home, I would start rebuilding my country bigger and better than ever. This fire was just a test. This stepping stone will not stop me from becoming the greatest country ever.

_Just you wait. One day, I will get respect from my fellow nations. _I fell asleep peacefully with that wonderful thought.

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><p>AN: I hope you guys liked this chapter! Usually I have a ten year rule which is the event I write about has to be at least ten years old, but this one was an exception. When I heard that Sealand had a fire, I had to write about it. Finding information on this was kind of challenging, but I managed.

Here is the history behind the chapter:

The fire took place in the afternoon on June 23rd, 2006. It was due to an electrical failure in the generators in the left Rough Tower.

The smoke could be seen for miles.

The UK offered assitance by offering many types of help including the Royal Air Force helicopter, the Thames Coastguard, Harwich RNLI lifeboat, Felixstone Coastguard rescue teams, Firefighting tug Brightwell, and 15 Suffolk based firefighters from the National Maritime Incident Response Group (MIRG). Yeah, England doesn't care about Sealand. Riiiight.

Only one person was hurt. An unnamed bodyguard was sent to Ipwich Hospital in Suffolk, England. He was transferred by the RAF helicopter. I seriously could not find his name so I called him Thomas Freeman.

His boss back then was Roy Bates. He recently died on October 9th, 2012. He was 91 years old, and his son, Michael, has taken over the throne.

HavenCo was a data haven on Sealand. It has since closed down.

All damage was repaired by November 2006.

Even after all of this, England did not recognized Sealand as a country. What a stubborn bloke. (That I love.)

Well, please review and no flames please! If you have any ideas for future chapters, please tell me! This was edited by Jinxometer.


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